ODDS AND ENDS 283 



In the matter of poaching cats nothing was to be 

 gained by letting one barrel know what the other 

 had shot. One summer evening I was making my 

 way along a cart-way between one of my woods 

 and the high wall of the garden belonging to the 

 1 big house/ Facing a double door in the wall was 

 a ride through the wood, and just as I got opposite 

 the ride a non-local cat began to cross it about 

 thirty yards up. I bowled the cat over, and went 

 up the ride to remove it. Just as I reached the 

 spot where the cat lay I heard someone opening the 

 garden door. The head-gardener appeared about 

 a fifth of a second after I had chucked the cat into 

 the stuff and fished from my pocket a nice young 

 rabbit, which, luckily, I had shot that evening half a 

 mile away. I strolled down the ride towards the 

 gardener, legging the rabbit on my way. Having 

 remarked, as I smoothed the fur of its back with 

 the blade of my knife, that it was a fine * young un ' 

 for the time of year, I asked him to save me the 

 trouble of carrying it home. I disposed of the cat 

 later on. 



A very old keeper friend, who seldom missed 

 a walked-up bird, performed the following feat. 

 Having to get some birds, he set out with an old 

 pointer for a large turnip-field. He fired at thirteen 

 single birds in succession, winged them all, and his 

 pointer gathered them all. The largest proportion 

 of runners I ever saw manufactured was ten out 



